


10 Tips How to Make an Angel Fall in Love with You

by sashushilda



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: -Ish, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Bad Jokes, Blame God if you fail, Brave Aziraphale (Good Omens), Chocolates, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley gets sick, Crowley loves his pillow, Crowley messes up, Crowley protects Aziraphale from Crowley, Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), First Kiss, Flowers, Fluff, Fluffy Angst, Getting Together, Happy Ending, How do people love?, Humor, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Jealous Crowley (Good Omens), Literature, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Metaphors, Misunderstandings, POV Crowley (Good Omens), Pining, Post-Canon, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Romance, Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Stupid Love, and the feeling is Mutual, is it even a thing?, kissy kissy, no he doesn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23013508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sashushilda/pseuds/sashushilda
Summary: When Crowley wants to win Aziraphale's heart, he turns to Google for help and finds some tips how to engage with someone romantically. He follows them step by step.__________________________________________________________________________"Science claims that there is one and one object only that never stops getting bigger - the Universe. Other things wear down, come to an end, stop, prendre fin. And Crowley's patience was not an exception."
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley/his pillow
Comments: 23
Kudos: 253





	1. Tips #1-2

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired and greatly influenced by Lady Gaga's "Stupid Love".

_I don't need a reason,_   
_Not sorry, I want your stupid love._

It was time. No, really, how long must a person wait for the right moment? Six millennia, they survived Armageddon together, crawled into each other's skin, dined at the Ritz for an inappropriate amount of times and still... nothing. Crowley had been waiting for Aziraphale to make a move on him. Actually, he was hoping that something would happen on the first night Aziraphale stayed over after his bookshop had been destroyed. But maybe it was stupid, it wasn't the right time. Apparently, it wasn't either after their trial and flirty remarks later at lunch. And not during a hundred situations later. Crowley had been patient, oh, he was the most patient being in the whole universe. He slipped once in 1967 and learnt his lesson well.

Science claims that there is one and one object only that never stops getting bigger - the Universe. Other things wear down, come to an end, stop, _prendre fin_. And Crowley's patience was not an exception. It was time to take the bull by its horns, or, if you will, the angel by his lapels. There was one problem, though. Crowley was not experienced when it came to love or subtlety it required not to scare the doe away. So his only chance of gaining wisdom was to turn to the almighty. The internet. Ah, the thing with answers to any questions. All he had to do was type in the right sort of question. “ _How fast is too fast_ ” proved to be useless, because most of the articles were about people being in an actual romantic relationship (he made a bookmark for later just in case). “ _Romantic gestures_ ” were all about females, Crowley wasn’t sure if it applied to Aziraphale, so he moved on. He wanted to be specific, but not that much as it was probably impossible to find any actual advice on how to make an angel come to terms that a demon was in love with him. He also needed a list of instructions, not a romantic essay. At last, the right thing came to mind – “ _Tips to make him fall in love with you_ ”. Crowley was overwhelmed with all the websites and Youtube videos and after carefully studying everything he picked up the best ten tips to finally engage in a romantic relationship with his angel.

**#1 – Make eye contact**

Crowley decided to start with an easy one – look a person straight in the eye. They hadn’t seen each other in a couple of days, so it was only appropriate to call on Aziraphale with some take away. Of course Crowley couldn’t follow the advice in a public place as he’d have to take the sunglasses off. He popped to a small Thai place, bought a variety of food and went to the bookshop. On his way he rehearsed a bit and even came up with an improvement which was to flutter his eyelashes. He’d seen it a million times in films and real life, girls always did this and it seemed to work. He tried to open and close his eyes very quickly but it only left his head spinning and he decided to wait until he’s in the bookshop and seated.

Crowley got to the bookshop just as the last customer was leaving. It was just 3:30 pm and the woman was visibly puzzled, but could do nothing about it. Crowley smiled indifferently at her and lifted his leg to step in, when he heard " _Don't expect anything from him, mate, spent an eternity here and now have to leave empty-handed_ ". He looked at the woman closely trying to guess if his affection was so obvious to everyone, but quickly realized she was only talking about the books.

"Aziraphale, I brought Thai!" Crowley called, entering the bookshop and looking around.

The angel was busy somewhere at the back, he just made some noises to indicate he'd heard the guest and didn't come out.

Well, it gave Crowley some time to prepare. He took off the sunglasses, put them on a shelf and rubbed his eyes. He just became aware of the fact that today could be the day everything changed. Maybe Aziraphale was waiting for any faint sign of affection and after seeing Crowley's irresistible glance he would just jump at him? The thought sent shivers down the demon's spine and he shook his head a bit to come back to senses.

"I'm sorry, dear," Aziraphale came out. "It's just this woman touched a couple of Wilde first editions and I had to take care of this as you can imagine." He rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Oh. Are you alright?"

Crowley was staring with eyes wide open at Aziraphale and even slightly lifted his eyebrows.

"Absolutely. Are you?" he smiled, but didn't stop looking.

"Erm, yes, sure. Always."

Aziraphale started brushing his jacket, then lifted a hand to his hair and checked if it was disheveled. He couldn't understand why Crowley was inspecting him so thoroughly all of a sudden and was worried something was wrong with his appearance. Poor angel didn't know he was being flirted with.

When there was nothing left of the food and the second bottle of wine was coming to an end, Crowley grew tired of this intensive eye contact. Especially since Aziraphale found a very convenient way out of the situation by looking at Crowley's forehead the whole time. It wasn't the most pleasant lunch they'd had, but it was too early to give up, since there was one ace left up Crowley's sleeve.

"And I thought that maybe a seaside picnic wasn't the best idea, you know, considering the weather."

"Mm-hm."

Crowley rested his chin on his hand and started fluttering his eyes at Aziraphale who instantly fell silent.

The angel waited for several moments and when he saw that the strange blinking wasn't going away, decided to solve the problem. "Really, Crowley, just miracle it away."

"What do you mean? Bad weather?"

"No, you've clearly got something in your eye, I hate seeing you struggle with it. Just miracle it away." Aziraphale smiled gently and took a sip of wine.

"Ah. Yeah. Fine."

Crowley waved a hand in a pretence miracle.

"I think your eyes are just not used to being exposed for so long and now all the elements are attacking them. Artificial light, dust..." Aziraphale was looking in his glass trying to suppress a smile.

Crowley wasn't sure if he was being serious or was shamelessly mocking him. Anyway, that stupid eye advice just made everything worse.

"I think you're right, angel. Where did I leave my sunglasses anyway?"

Crowley stood up and went to look for them.

"Wait! Forgive my attempt at being funny, I wasn't trying to offend you," he grabbed his hand. "It's just you've been acting a tad bit strange today."

Crowley was too proud to let Aziraphale pity him and his patience for today had gone dry.

"Alright," he took his hand away. "You're probably right, there's too much book dust in here. Gotta run now, see you soon?"

Crowley put his sunglasses on and waved goodbye, leaving one very confused angel behind.

**#2 – Ask for help**

Crowley needed several days to restore his ego. Most of the time he lay in bed and buried his face in a pillow when shame reached unbearable levels. How could he spend half a day making a fool of himself? He should have known better than following the advice some degenerate left online. Stupid people with their stupid love. On the other hand, they were the ones blabbering endlessly about pure feeling in their heart, the longing, the sweet pain... Crowley growled as all the emotions he was thinking about rushed through him. He turned the pillow and touched the cold side with his right cheek. His eyes closed and he imagined it was Aziraphale's cool skin after spending a day walking around London Zoo in winter. It only left him more desperate.

What were the options? He'd been relying on himself this whole time and got nothing out of it. He had to finish what he started. Crowley reached a hand to grab his smartphone, opened one eye and found the notes he'd saved. Next on the list was asking for help. It was supposed to be flattering, make the person of interest feel good and connect the feeling with you. Seemed pretty smart, even demonic in a way. Crowley started to consider what possible help he could ask for from Aziraphale. It was always vice versa with the two of them and Crowley was used to being independent, so it was a tough situation.

Actually, he could play it to his advantage. If Aziraphale helped him, he would feel ten times better because he wasn't that familiar with the feeling. So what was Aziraphale good at? Many things which didn't apply to Crowley in the slightest. For example, he couldn't ask for a reading suggestion without drawing suspicion, same with anything concerning food. And then it dawned on him. He could pretend to be ill! They went to see La Bohème several weeks ago and in the last act when Mimi was dying, Rodolfo stated his eternal love for her etc etc. Of course there was no need to go as far as passing away, but something like flu? People got it all the time, he could find some explanation for this. He could also benefit from being skinny, after all it suited a sick person terribly well.

Next day, Crowley picked up the phone to call Aziraphale. He’d googled all the symptoms of the flu and was ready to play his act.

“Mr. Fell’s Antiquarian and Unusual Books, how may I assist you?” he heard the voice on the other end.

“Hello, Aziraphale…” Crowley said weakly.

“Crowley? Is that you? What’s the matter with you?” Aziraphale immediately became concerned.

“Yeah, angel, ‘tis me…” he sniffled. “I’m feeling unwell,” he coughed. “Think I’ve caught a flu or something.”

And he polished it with a sneeze.

“Oh Lord, be with you soon!”

Aziraphale hung up.

Everything was going exactly as he’d planned. On the way to Crowley’s flat Aziraphale would work himself up and the only thing he would want to do was to leap to Crowley’s side and smother him with kisses.

Aziraphale was there in twenty minutes. Crowley heard the door open and quick footsteps approaching the bedroom. He put on the most miserable look and placed a hand on his forehead.

“Crowley, just look at you!” Aziraphale covered his mouth.

“I…”

“We’ll come up with something to get back at them, I promise you! I knew we should have been more careful!”

The angel started pacing the room.

“What are you talking about?” Crowley raised on his elbows and was following Aziraphale’s movements with his head.

“Don’t you understand? At first I thought that maybe your body just lowered its defence against human viruses, after all, we’re the only ones to be spending so much time on Earth, who knows. But then,” he stopped. “I realised that it was them,” he raised a finger. “Or them,” he pointed the finger to the floor.

Crowley fell back on the pillow and moaned. Why did it have to be so difficult?

“Are you feeling worse?” Aziraphale rushed to him. “We need to figure out what exactly they did to you. Now tell me everything that’s happened to you in the last, say, 48 hours.”

“I was just lying in bed, I didn’t go anywhere or meet anyone.”

“So it must have started earlier,” Aziraphale gasped. “Something’s inside you and it’s growing bigger.”

The only thing growing bigger was Crowley’s irritation.

“No, no, angel, please, I didn’t meet anyone suspicious, didn’t talk to anyone. It’s just flu. I thought maybe you could help somehow, not make things more difficult.”

“Are you sure? What are your symptoms?”

“Erm. I’ve got chills, stuffy nose, my throat is sore, body aches,” Crowley recited. “And fatigue, tired big time.”

Aziraphale took Crowley’s palm in his hand and gave him a concerned look. It was happening, he was going to say how worried and in love he was. Crowley was afraid to breath.

“But I don’t feel anything.”

Aziraphale let go of him.

“What exactly don’t you feel?”

“I always feel when somebody is unwell, the whole body sends signals about it and if it’s something minor like flu, I can heal it in a second. You seem fine to me.”

Crowley was ready to explode. He wanted to be angry at Aziraphale, but he knew it was him who didn’t think it through. Now he had to find a reason for all this.

“Maybe you’re right, I probably got too emotional. Just watched a really sad film.”

“What film?”

Bloody hell, what film? With someone ill in it!

“A walk to remember.” _Really, Crowley?_ he thought to himself.

“Never heard of it.”

Thank Someone.

“I didn’t know you could be so emphatic, Crowley. You always roll your eyes on romance or drama.”

“Ngk.” was the only thing Crowley came up with.

He sat in bed and sighed. “Well, since you’re here, care for some tea?”

“Sure!” Aziraphale lit up. “Only I didn’t bring anything with me.”

“We’ll figure something out.” 

Crowley stood up and lumbered into the kitchen. It wasn’t an absolute defeat, he wasn’t giving up yet.


	2. Tips #3-5

**#3+4 – Compliment him + Let him make you laugh**

Crowley came into the kitchen, put the kettle on and fished his smartphone out of his pocket. So far it hadn't been going that well, but he still had the whole list to go through. Since Aziraphale was waiting for him in the living room, he could well look for something else. Something that didn't need planning, something easy. He quickly scanned through the notes and found two perfect things he could do right there and then. The first one was to compliment him and the second to laugh at his jokes. Complimenting comes easy when you're in love, right? He just needed to make sure he was subtle. And as for jokes... Well, Aziraphale had been more relaxed and cheerful since he'd got rid of his pestering bosses, but the only thing he and Seth Rogen had in common was curly hair. There was a solution, though. Finding funny things in everyday situations. If he could just do that, there would be no problem with having something funny to laugh at.

"Do you need help there?" he heard the voice from the room.

"You're so helpful, angel, but no, thank you," he replied and was impressed how easy it was to give praise.

Crowley went back with two cups of tea and a box of shortbread that had been sitting on the shelf for a very long time.

"Sorry, that's all I've got," he said putting it on the table.

"It's alright, I love shortbread."

"It's probably stale and not very nice."

"One thing that is good about shortbread is that it can be stored for quite a long time without losing its taste qualities."

Aziraphale took a bite happily and _mmm_ 'ed in appreciation.

"You know so much about food, that's impressive."

Aziraphale frowned and looked at Crowley suspiciously. Crowley noticed that and had to admit that was a lazy attempt at saying something nice.

"I mean I love how you never let anything go to waste."

He hadn't even finished the sentence and already knew it was coming out horribly wrong. Aziraphale sighed and put the biscuit down.

"You think I eat too much?" he was visibly disappointed.

"No, 'course that's not what I meant!"

"I didn't tell you, but right before Armageddon Gabriel told me to, I quote," lose the gut", and it's been bothering me ever since."

He lowered his head and shook it slightly." I could lose a couple of pounds, I suppose..."

Crowley's chest filled with rage. How could that arsehole of an angel say that to Aziraphale? The most perfect creation of God?

"Gabriel can stick his opinion up his tight arse! Aziraphale, you're the nicest angel I've ever met pre or after the fall and there's nothing in your body or personality that needs to be changed!" Crowley noticed that he was standing now, hot in the face, his chest heaving. Aziraphale, in return, became completely red and wide-eyed. They looked at each other awkwardly and Crowley lowered himself back on the sofa.

"Well, thank you, it did make me feel a bit better." Aziraphale said as he came back to his senses. "I have to admit I enjoy when you make remarks about Gabriel, he's really an ass," he chuckled.

"Yeah, he is. You know he wears grey all the time? Attach two long years to his head and you'll get a donkey."

Aziraphale started laughing and even brushed away some tears, which gave Crowley infinite joy.

"You know, mine's not better. I mean Beelzebub? Has to hang out with flies all the time because they're the only creatures that can stand her voice for longer than two seconds."

At this Aziraphale collapsed on Crowley's shoulder and buried his face in his collarbone, body shaking from muffled laughs. Crowley suddenly lost all his amusement and stiffened. Sure he was doing it wrong by making Aziraphale laugh and not the other way round, but he still had the angel so close to him now and he didn't have the instruction what to do next. Was he to put his arm around him? Maybe pat his back? Or just simply take his face in his hands and start kissing? His chest ached at the thought of it and he started reaching out as... Aziraphale sat back up and glanced at his watch.

"Blimey! I've got an appointment with a bibliographer in half an hour! He promised to show me something very tempting, I can't be late!"

He stood up and looked at Crowley who was still in some kind of shock.

"You don't mind me leaving so abruptly, dear? You know how important this is," he said apologetically.

Crowley blinked a couple of times and forced a smile.

"No probs, mate. Catch you later. Don't forget to tell me what it is," _so tempting that you decided to bolt out of here_ he finished in his mind. He reached a hand for a handshake, but Aziraphale brushed it off and hugged him instead.

"I'm just glad you're ok! Take care, dear," he said and hurried out.

Crowley decided to score himself a point for this day.

**#5 – Let him know you're thinking of him**

First victory needed reinforcement. Crowley wanted it to be stylish and cool, but romantic at the same time. So for this step he decided to go with Tip #5 - "Let him know you're thinking of him". It would have been easier if Aziraphale had a smartphone, though Crowley didn't mind a little challenge and going old-fashioned.

First idea came easy to him. On Monday he sent Aziraphale handmade chocolates and a bunch of white peonies accompanied by a note "Thinking of you <3". He expected some feedback, maybe a phone call or, even better, a confession, but got none.

On Tuesday he miracled some customers to come to the shop and ask about a non-existent book " _Of angels and snakes_ ". Maybe it wasn't exactly a signal of Crowley thinking about Aziraphale, but surely it planted a seed in his mind? A seed that was supposed to grow into a tree of realization that he needed to call Crowley. Didn't happen.

On Wednesday Crowley made every grocer, bus driver or waiter tell Aziraphale " _And by the way, he's thinking of you_ ". He particularly liked this idea - the whole world announcing his love. In the evening he waited across the street from the bookshop to surreptitiously take a look at a happy angel coming back home, but all he got was a hasty and pissed Aziraphale storming inside and banging the door. Maybe something happened which he didn't know about? Well, he got something for Thursday to lift his angel's spirits.

On Thursday Crowley arranged a billboard of a new TV show "You" to be set right in front of Aziraphale's windows. He even made the person on it ginger. Although he had no idea what the show was about or how out of place it looked on the narrow Soho street, Crowley enjoyed how subtle and smart it was. Of course his clever sweetheart would understand the pattern and appreciate it.

Since the previous day was quite big, on Friday Crowley went with something simple and sent Aziraphale chocolates and flowers again. He finished the week with what he'd started it with. Only now the note said " _Still and always_ ".

Crowley concluded that it was enough and didn't do anything on Saturday so that Aziraphale understood how used to the attention he'd got.

First thing on Sunday Crowley called the angel.

"Hey, Aziraphale, haven't heard from you in a long time. How are things?"

"Crowley, thank God it's you!"

"Who else could it be?"

"I've had the most terrible week! You wouldn't believe."

Aziraphale was on the verge of a bursting into tears. As was Crowley.

"What happened?" he uttered.

Aziraphale lowered his voice to whispering. "I think I'm being stalked. Can you come over? It's quite sensitive."

As Crowley was walking to Aziraphale's, he was nursing faint hope that the angel’s concerns had nothing to do with Crowley's acts of love. Of course they were shuttered as soon as he arrived and Aziraphale quickly ushered him in opening the door only a little.

"I'm so glad you came! Sit down, we need to think what to do."

Crowley did as he was told and prepared to listen.

"You know how I sometimes get unwanted attention from, erm, certain individuals?"

Crowley had no idea what he was talking about, but nodded.

"This time it's worse than ever. At first it started with flowers and sweets, don't laugh but I thought they were from you. Who else knows my favourite chocolates flavours? But then there was this note of... romantic nature. I didn't think much of it, it's not the first time, not the last, right?"

Aziraphale's ability to make any situation worse left Crowley at a loss.

"So next day something else happened which at first I didn't connect with the previous one. People kept bothering me about a strange book about snakes, I swear there were at least twenty of them! I thought it was some kind of a practical joke. Later it dawned on me that snakes represent fertility and someone must have been flirting with me in a twisted way..."

"I'm a snake, aren't I?" Crowley's voice was hoarse.

"Hah, there's no argue, my friend," Aziraphale laughed nervously. "If only that person knew that my best friend was a serpent, I bet he would think of something smarter."

"So it's a he?"

"Indeed! In the middle of the week I was doing my grocery shopping and went out to have dinner, so what do you think? He must have been following me and bribed everyone to tell me he was out there! I got really angry, I mean it was clearly over the line!"

"Was it, eh?"

"The worst thing that left me terrified was a horrible advertisment I saw out of the window in the morning. He must be very rich to afford to go at such lengths. It was a TV-series ad, so I had to go out and ask a couple of passers-by what it was about."

"And?"

If Crowley could sweat, he would have been soaked.

"It's about a maniac who's obsessed with his love interest! Of course I miracled it away right that moment."

"Good for you."

"Not exactly, my dear. He polished everything off with flowers and a threatening note that he'd never leave me alone now. Yesterday I spent the whole day locked in and expecting for something horrible to happen, but he seems to have decided to lie low. Probably preparing something grandly horrific."

At that point Crowley had two options - confess or play it cool. He wasn't planning on ruining his relationship with Aziraphale, so went with the latter.

"Have you heard from him today?"

"Not yet, but it's still early, who knows what might happen."

"Let's just see, maybe he didn't get any response from you and decided to switch to someone else. Call me if anything happens."

Crowley knew that nothing was going to happen and needed to go home as soon as possible to arrange a meeting for his face and a pillow.

"Are you leaving already?"

"The story's been told, what else to do?"

"You can't leave me alone, not at this time. Please stay. We'll open a bottle of wine and maybe you could order something to eat? You know, with your telephone, you still have this special programme that helps you do it without talking to anyone?"

"Angel, I..."

"Please."

Aziraphale thought that Crowley wanted to leave. He didn't know how happy the demon was that despite everything and all the screw ups he still wanted Crowley by his side. Perhaps Crowley was the reason of almost half of his own troubles, but he loved being reminded that he was needed.

"Course I'll stay. What's the wine?"


	3. Tips #6-10

**#6+7** **–** **Support his interests + Engage him in an intellectual conversation**

Something strange was happening. Crowley had been steadily doing everything wrong, messing up and disappointing Aziraphale instead of making him fall in love, but there he was - in the bookshop with his angel.

They spent the whole Sunday together and then Crowley promised not to leave until Aziraphale felt save enough, which led to him staying for three days. It was unbelievable and new. First of all, he really wanted to know what he'd done right. Secondly, they'd never been together for so long. In such close quarters. They ordered food online, Aziraphale read and listened to classical music, Crowley slept and watched videos on Youtube. Bust most of the time they talked, mostly about the old times, gossiping about their bosses, discussing what had happened to people they'd known centuries ago.

Somewhere in the middle of his stay Crowley decided it was smart to move on to the next step. He figured since their conversations were so lengthy, the best option was to combine two tips into one – “Support his interests and engage him in an intellectual conversation”. Wasn’t it perfect? They would continue talking and Crowley could smoothly change the subject to something Aziraphale was passionate about.

The most obvious thing, of course, was books. But Crowley hated reading. He couldn’t fathom why anybody would want to dedicate hours and hours to some story. Wasn’t it just easier to watch a film? Go to a theatre? Not do anything at all? However, it was Aziraphale’s favourite pastime and Crowley was ready for some sacrifice on his side. After all, nobody said he wasn’t allowed to cheat.

Next day, while the angel was reading, Crowley took a stroll around the shelves, taking closer look at writers and titles. When his eye fell upon an enormous collection of Wilde, it took all of his self-control not to hiss. He hated the bloke back then and as the time moved them further apart, the feeling didn’t seem to decrease. Perhaps it had something to do with Aziraphale’s obsession which refused to cool down as well. Sure, Crowley was ready to make the effort (of reading now, and the other one later), but this was too much. Not Wilde, then. He kept searching until he came across a moderate stack of Evelyn Waugh’s works. Someone must have been looking out for him, because it was just what he needed. He knew old Evelyn in person and saw most of the film adaptations, didn’t even have to try that hard. Crowley peeked at Aziraphale, who was following the lines in his book with a slightly open mouth, all consumed by it. The demon put his hand on the Waugh collection, closed his eyes and quickly miracled all the words to transfer into his mind. Easy. That was a lot of information to process, everything seemed blurry, yet Crowley was so eager to go and show off all his knowledge, he preferred not to stall any longer.

Aziraphale was sitting in the armchair, so Crowley took a seat on the sofa opposite him and coughed. Aziraphale raised his eyes.

“Interesting book you got there?” Crowley asked.

“Oh, rather. It’s the most magnificent love story. You know, I’m not the one for modern literature, but this is…”

“You know who was a great writer? Evelyn Waugh,” Crowley interrupted.

“Ah, yes, I guess he was alright. His personality left a lot to be desired, though.”

“You think so? I enjoyed talking to him.”

“Probably because you’re a demon, Crowley. You must have found a kindred spirit in him.”

Aziraphale took off his glasses and started polishing them with a piece of cleaning cloth.

“So what you’re saying is that since we got along, my personality is difficult as well?”

Crowley felt offended, but was ready to let it go if Aziraphale gave the right answer.

The right answer was “ _Of course not, my ineffably magnificent demon. Your personality is one of a kind and I’d like to explore it even more, along with some other things_ ”. What Aziraphale said was a bit different.

“Mm-hm, sometimes you can be a bit… unbearable.”

“You know what?” Crowley stood up and put his hands on hips. “This conversation is unbearable.”

Aziraphale leapt up as well and wanted to take a step towards Crowley, but changed his mind.

“Don’t be mad, you know I didn’t mean to say in a bad way.”

“What way, then?”

“It’s just… just you’re, I suppose…” Aziraphale wanted to make things better, but his ability to speak was failing him. Crowley huffed.

“Since I can’t leave you to deal with this _admirer_ of yours alone. I mean, a _nother_ admirer, I’m going to sit in the furthest corner from you so that you don’t have to deal with my horrible persona.”

Crowley turned on his hills and marched away. He wanted to turn left, but stumbled upon a pile of books lying on the floor. He cursed under his breath and settled for taking Aziraphale’s desk by the window and turning his back on him.

The nerve of this angel! As if it was an easy job to deal with _him_ for six thousand years. Crowley wished he hadn’t even touched the stupid books and wanted to forget everything he took the time to read. Just out of spite. Could anything go right for a change? Instead of _engaging him in an intellectual conversation_ , Crowley just had one of the worst interactions with the angel, for the most stupid reason.

Just as he started to cool off a bit, something else popped into his mind. _The admirer_. Aziraphale had mentioned that it wasn’t the first time he’d got attention from someone and it completely went over Crowley’s head back then. Even though the last person to smother the angel with affection was Crowley himself, he was overcome with jealousy. He didn’t have any idea that this part of Aziraphale’s life even existed and it wasn’t the nicest thing to learn about the angel. He wanted to know how many suitors he’d got over the years. On the other hand, he didn’t want to know a thing about it.

There were footsteps behind him, Crowley sighed theatrically, crossed his arms and fixed his gaze on the passers-by on the other side of the window.

“I’m sorry, dear.” Aziraphale’s voice was quite. “I know that sometimes I say things that are over the top. You’ve helped me and I’m being ungrateful.”

Crowley shifted in the chair.

“Ngk.”

“It’s been three days already and there’s no sign of him. Maybe he came to terms with the fact that his affection isn’t mutual and decided to leave me alone?”

Aziraphale waited for Crowley’s response, but was met with silence.

“I don’t want to keep you, really.”

Crowley started chewing his cheek. Now Aziraphale wanted to kick him out, perfect. Maybe it was for the best, that way he wouldn’t make the everything even worse. Crowley nodded.

“Erm, tell me if you need anything. You know where to find me.”

They stood opposite each other for a couple of moments, didn’t come up with what to do, so just said their goodbyes and Crowley left the bookshop.

**#8(+9+10)** **–** **Disappear for some time (+ bonus tips)**

Stupid, stupid angel! Idiot demon! That was it for Crowley. All the advice proved to be absolutely useless or maybe suitable just for human beings with their simple relationships. If Crowley and Aziraphale were created to be just friend and She was _so_ adamant on keeping them on platonic level, then so be it. There couldn’t be another explanation to all the failure that surrounded his whole “love plan” other than divine intervention. Well, at least she was watching and didn’t kill them for _fraternizing_.

Crowley sat in the Bentley, hit the wheel with his palm and instantly felt bad.

“Sorry I’m taking it out on you.”

Now all this affected his relationship with the car and he couldn’t allow it. He took out the phone from the pocket with an intention to delete all the bookmarks and notes from there. As he was doing so, he noticed the last tip – disappear for some time.

“Right on cue,” he grumbled before hitting delete and starting the engine.

Crowley found solace in something that never failed to be there for him, never disappointed him, never refused to provide him comfort. His pillow. His first instinct was to sleep for at least a year, but he was too worked up for that. Days went by, he dozed off for several hours, woke up, lamented for some time then repeated all the steps. Of course there was no word from Aziraphale, he’d got what he wanted and was ready to not speak to Crowley until he needed saving once again. At least that was what Crowley tried to convince himself of. Deep down he knew that Aziraphale was probably just as embarrassed and confused about everything that had been happening in the past few weeks. Crowley was the one responsible for all the mess, but this time he had no idea how to get out of the situation. He could wait for an amount of time appropriate enough for them to brush it under the carpet. Or he could stand up, go to the shop and be honest about everything. It was impossible to say which one was worse, so Crowley stayed in bed.

His sleep was interrupted by an irritated knock on the door. At first Crowley thought he was dreaming, but upon opening his eyes he realized that the sound wasn’t gone. It took all his willpower to get up and come look who was so desperate to see him. Surprisingly, it was Aziraphale who looked pretty mad.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley blinked several times trying to shake off a sleepy look.

“Crowley, I need to talk to you. May I come in?”

Aziraphale marched inside without a proper invitation and Crowley had no choice but to follow. They stood in the living room, Aziraphale tapping his foot on the floor and Crowley having no idea what was happening.

“What is happening?” Aziraphale asked.

“You tell me. I’m not the one barging in other people’s flats.”

“Why did you leave so suddenly and disappeared?”

“Suddenly? You were the one who told me to bugger off!”

Aziraphale noticed something interesting on the ceiling and became very concentrated on looking at it. Finally, he spoke.

“You were supposed to find a reason to stay.”

Crowley tilted his head. “After you told me I was difficult to deal with.”

“Aren’t you?” Aziraphale threw up his hands. “Especially in the last few weeks! You acted rather weirdly. What with all the strange looks, falling ill, trying to discuss Waugh’s literary skills.”

_Argh, what the hell._

“Ok, alright, ahem, there’s more.”

Unlike Aziraphale, Crowley decided he was brave enough to look him in the eye.

“More?”

“Yeah. That stalker of yours?”

“What about him?”

“There’s nothing about him ‘cause his doesn’t exist. Me the whole time.”

Crowley expected Aziraphale to gasp, throw a tantrum, tell him off for scaring him like that, but none of that happened. The angel just furrowed his brows and bit his lip.

“So what do you say?” Crowley asked impatiently.

“I’m just trying to put everything together,” Aziraphale mumbled. Suddenly it dawned on him. “Crowley, were you trying to court me?”

Crowley winced as if Aziraphale had just shoved a whole lemon into his mouth.

“This word sounds awful. But yeah, you got the idea,” he sighed.

It was painfully embarrassing to admit something like that, especially after doing everything wrong, but Aziraphale wasn’t angry or shocked. On the contrary, he started smiling and radiating something only angels could. One particular angel.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

The smile was still growing wider.

“I was scared,” Crowley shrugged.

“But you’re the brave one in this couple, dear.”

Aziraphale took a step closer.

“You called us a couple?”

There was a black hole in Crowley’s chest that was ready to swallow him along with Aziraphale. It was the most terrifying thing that had ever happened to him.

“Are we not a couple?” Another step. “We are close, we spend a lot of time together, you take me to restaurants and theatres, we have our own side. Isn’t it enough to call us that?”

“What about love?” Crowley croaked in reply. His throat was terribly dry.

“Oh, I do love you.”

“You’re an angel, you love everyone.”

“Of course, but I love you more than everyone. Differently.”

Aziraphale was now standing just a breath away from Crowley who, for the first time in his life, felt like a scared rabbit, not a snake. Aziraphale touched his hand and, when Crowley didn’t sheer away, entwined their fingers.

“I know that when couples are together romantically, there’s some kissing involved.”

Aziraphale’s thumb was caressing the back of Crowley’s hand.

Crowley nodded.

Aziraphale leaned in and their lips met. Crowley closed his eyes and opened them back the next second. His angel’s lips were so soft and yet the feeling they gave him was the most acute.

Let’s step aside for a bit and try to understand what Crowley was feeling. Christmas lights were first used in 1882. It was one invention Crowley was particularly proud of, something that stood the test of time. People enjoyed them and they brought festive mood to cities and homes all around the world. What they also brought was pain, frustration, anger and helplessness. Once they were put away in a box, there was no going back. People were doomed to take them out next Christmas and find a clot of bulbs not even Houdini was able to untangle. The ones brave enough trying to do that failed miserably, arguing with loved ones and saying the most horrible things to them. Only a few got to the end of the quest, only they knew what it felt like to finally untangle all the lights, to finally being able to enjoy their beauty and bask in their colourama.

And Crowley was the lucky one.

Finally, they parted and looked at each other. Aziraphale’s lips were all red as though he used lipstick on them.

“I have to admit kissing is a lot nicer than I thought,” he said.

“You never kissed before?”

“No,” Aziraphale blushed.

“But what about all your admirers you were talking about?”

Aziraphale waved a hand at this.

“All of them bothered me for some time, but they saw I wasn’t interested and gave up.”

“Oscar Wilde?”

“I’ve told you already he was a friend whose works I admire.” He smiled. “I never understood why you always found a way to make a remark about our friendship, now I know you were just jealous.”

Crowley wanted to protest, but knew he wouldn’t be convincing. Then he remembered something.

“I never properly said it.” He gently caressed Aziraphale’s face. “I love you, angel. Like a demon who is not supposed to love anyone, but does so nonetheless.”

From that day on Crowley promised himself that the only advice he was going to follow when it came to love was:

**#9 Be brave.**

**#10 Be honest.**


End file.
